Pistol Grip Pump
by ASilencedMurderer
Summary: Alice has the weight of the undead world on her shoulders and feels like the only escape is putting a bullet through her brain. Her thoughts change when she meets a woman as stubborn and strong willed as herself. Rated M.
1. Contemplation

**Pistol Grip Pump – A Claire/Alice fanfiction (Resident Evil)**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: A massive holler (oh blast I'm going American) to Alexa (Mercs2Girl) for editing this first chapter majorly and being an absolute star. Have all my love, Alexa, have all of it. Also, this is my very first Alice/Claire fanfiction and I'm hoping that it doesn't go to shit. Well, here goes nothing.**

_Chapter 1:_

Alice lay beneath the stars, her duster messily folded into a makeshift pillow, attempting to achieve a small amount of comfort from practically nothing. But then again, Alice felt like she didn't deserve comfort. She deserved nothing after she practically watched the world go to complete shit. She sat and watched the human race succumb to the T-Virus like a fifteen year old teenage blogger succumbs to the special snowflake syndrome. Alice failed to save the Umbrella squadron that attempted to secure the biohazard outbreak in the Hive; she failed to save Matt from the clutches of Umbrella's science team – essentially causing him to transform into a mutant; she failed to stop the outbreak in Raccoon City and she certainly failed to stop the T-Virus killing the Earth and all it's inhabitants.

Alice was a failure.

And she was responsible for the death of the human race.

She ran a calloused hand through dusty brunette hair, and let out a sigh only heard by her and her alone.

Staring upon the stars once again, weary Alice spotted Canis Major in the celestial sphere.

It's rather funny, once the human race started the die out, Mother Nature started to live again. The skies lightened, stars brightened and light pollution ceased to exist. To gain beauty in one area, you must kill another. It was quite frightening.

That was the only part of Mother Nature that managed to thrive in these barren wastelands. Once the T-Virus dominated most of the world, all the land began to wither and die. Residential areas crumbled, forests wilted and the desert's unrelenting grasp took a hold of every inch of the landscape.

Everything turned to dust and sand.

As far as Alice's experimented eyes could see at this late hour, everything was the ever-unsurprising sand. There was no outstanding landmark, just the occasional tumbleweed.

Alice returned to her thoughts once again.

What if she had turned up at the Hive just that little bit earlier to stop Spence from throwing that vial of T-Virus?

What if she hadn't slept with Spence?

What if she had saved Matt?

What would have happened if Umbrella did actually contain the massive biohazard in the Hive?

Who would Alice be if she wasn't injected with the T-Virus? Would she be just as emotionless? Or would she be the person who attempts to save the last of the human race, instead of wandering the desert like a lost and lone wolf?

She didn't actually know why she was continuing to wander the desert. No one out there cared about her existence, and she certainly didn't want the weight of the dead world upon her shoulders anymore. She was pretty sure that the person who caused the extinction of the human race didn't deserve to survive this long.

She turned to the weapons lying by her right side, barely lit by the ever-fading fire.

Alice managed to scavenge reliable dual pistols, a sawn-off shotgun and some well looked after kukri knives over the years she spent travelling alone.

Reaching for one of the pistols, she turned it over in her experienced hands.

One pump of the trigger, one bullet through the skull, and all of this could be over. No more monstrosity named Alice wandering Earth anymore and no more weighted feeling on her shoulders.

One trigger.

One bullet.

One death.

It was just that simple.

Tilting the worn pistol to face the barrel to the underneath of her chin, she gently placed a forefinger onto the trigger and tensed.

A sharp intake of breath was the only sound to fill the woman's ears.

Alice was about to pull the trigger, but suddenly drew the pistol away and locked it into its holster.

_That can wait for another night._ She thought and turned in for the night, the chill of the dark skies finally reaching her infected skin.


	2. Mastication

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: I forgot to write this last chapter, because I'm a twat, but this fanfiction is going to be slightly AU so I can bend it to my own will. So it can fit, and stuff. Just if you guys were wondering. Also, I don't think this chapter isn't as good as the first. Let me know by leaving a review! You know you want to.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil (do you see any hot sex scenes/masturbation scenes with Alice and Claire?) nor the title **_**Pistol Grip Pump**_**, which belongs to Rage Against the Machine. You should check out that song, it really is fucking awesome.**

_Chapter 2:_

The sun bore down on the ever-rusting convoy, its scalding rays burning every inch of skin visible. Sitting in the center of the sky – with no clouds to attempt to block the increasing heat – the sun's scorching grasp hit the last surviving humans like a ton of bricks hitting flesh and bone. Surely, any remaining human would die of heat exhaustion, hyperthermia or at least major dehydration. If not that, the human would die of lack of food or energy.

Claire Redfield, sitting in the faded yellow hummer, denied that fact. She took up the leading position, picked up any surviving human and fought off death with bare fists. Claire just didn't give a flying fuck about death, or at least giving up.

Adjusting her achromatized trademark "good times" baseball cap, Claire focused her emerald eyes back onto the cracked road. Although the windows were rolled down, her skin was boiling and she was pretty sure that her back was soaked in sweat. Wine red hair fluttered carelessly against Claire's pale face, causing the woman to take a somewhat grubby hand off the wheel to tuck it behind her ear. The hair fluttered back out again, and Claire repeated the process, causing a never-ending battle between a determined human and her unruly hair.

In the seat next to her, a young blonde human who just crested the age of sweet sixteen was lightly dozing to pass the time. After Claire had found the child half-dead in a dilapidated K-Mart store (and promptly named the child K-Mart – which got shortened to K in the coming weeks – after K-Mart refused to give Claire her birth name), Claire tried to retain the remnants of K-Mart's innocence after taking the child under her wing. That idea was practically impossible, since people started biting into one another and becoming infected.

Still, Claire persevered.

She persevered to protect, to survive, and to live on in these harsh times.

But was she actually achieving what she was persevering to do?

Over half of her convoy has died in the past three months, and the supplies were about as dry as the damned desert she was driving in. Sooner or later, they would run out of the necessities or get torn to shit by an undead person.

Why was she even bothering?

Surely going through all this hassle, all this pain just to keep on living in this dead world would be worth it.

Claire was running out of ideas, places to go and there was no safe haven.

The convoy, K-Mart and herself are going to die if she couldn't replenish the supplies, or at least fend off the infection.

Fending off the infection was quite easy: avoid major cities, stay on the road, and don't take on massive hoards of the undead. If Claire was faced by a small amount of the undead, simple pumps of the trigger of any gun would dispose of the infection.

It was that simple.

Then why was 95% of the population roaming around, decomposing and hungering for fresh flesh?

Life would be much easier if she just-

A female voice interrupted her brooding.

"Claire, look." K-Mart pointed at the broken building that was barely standing on its own foundations.

Claire corrected herself. She wasn't pointing at the building, she was pointing at the people surrounding it.

Or rather, the undead surrounding it. There was at least over two hundred surrounding the building and aimlessly wandering across the cracked road.

Quickly putting a stop to the hummer, she picked up the radio.

"Carlos, Mikey, LJ, Otto! Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"I sure am." Carlos calmly replied.

"Fuck. Stop the vehicles, everyone stay inside, lock it up and stay silent." Claire commanded, ending the radio chatter almost instantly.

Claire looked over to K-Mart, who was turning pale ever so slowly. Unconsciously, she placed a reassuring hand on K-Mart's forearm, in an attempt to calm the worrying teenager: the attempt barely worked

The radio came to life again, and Carlos's voice rang through the hummer.

"Claire, we're wasting daylight. We can't turn around, and we certainly can't plough through the horde. What do you suggest?"

"Give me a moment." She quickly replied.

Scanning the area, Claire could find no escape route or way around.

The redhead let out an exasperated sigh, readjusted her cap and talked into the radio with the force of a natural leader. "Lock and fucking load boys, the hoard isn't going to make a path for us itself."

"But Claire-" Carlos tried to voice some reason into Claire's rash plan.

"Carlos, don't make me use you as bait and throw you into the horde. We need to make a path, and we need to do it now." Claire's words were final. No more arguments, just physical action.

The redhead turned to K-Mart, who had an extremely concerned look on her face. "Claire-"

"Leave it, K-Mart. We need to keep moving forward, and this is the only plan that might work." She started checking over her firearms.

"But Claire-"

"K-Mart, I'll be fine." She cocked her pistol to prove her point further. Claire gave K-Mart a quick one-armed hug, and hopped out of the vehicle. Stopping in her tracks, she turned around and quickly said in a hushed tone: "If everything goes to shit, and I get bitten, for the love of God hop into the driver's seat and drive with no looking back." She smiled at the younger teenager, and then ran to her convoy's lieutenants and some able survivors.

"Right. Here's the plan: go in all guns blazing, and do not stop firing. I want at least half of these bastards dead, before we retreat back to the vehicles. I'm going to be leading, Carlos and LJ you're going to provide cover. Once we're in and the horde starts to come towards us, the rest of you are just going to shoot all the undead to shit. I don't want anyone bitten, do you understand me?"

"Claire, we don't have to do this." Carlos carefully protested.

"Yes, we do. Do you see another fucking way to manoeuvre around the horde?"

No one replied.

"Good. Lock and load, see you on the other side." Claire smirked, and readied her pistol.

Claire knew that this plan was a massive risk, but she had to do it. There was no other way, and the convoy had to keep on moving.

Running towards the horde, she gripped her pistol even tighter and pumped the trigger, each crack that filled the air took an undead down. However, for every undead that fell, two took its place. She whipped around; making a perfect bullet hole in the center of one of their heads. Behind her, she heard Carlos unleashing machine gun rounds at the unfortunate undead who got too close to Claire. Mikey was clearing out a small path of his own just to the left of the convoy's leader, and LJ was picking off random infected with his golden custom Desert Eagles. The others who were fighting set up a defense line to protect the convoy, and she didn't even have to order them. Claire felt a small bit of pride well up in her stomach.

Suddenly, her pistol clicked empty.

_Shit._

Scrambling for another round, she quickly reloaded the previously empty gun and tried to fall back to gain some space between herself and the undead while fumbling with another magazine.

What she didn't notice, however, was that the undead were right behind her.

She was surrounded, and she couldn't get a visual on any of her lieutenants.

"Fuck!" She screamed, unleashing another round of bullets on the decomposing creatures. They were closing in all too quickly.

A cold hand latched on her forearm, and she snapped around to see the undead who grabbed her. Aiming her pistol, she pumped the trigger with unconscious skill, but nothing happened. It just clicked empty.

"Oh fucking cock." She threw the pistol back into her holster, and engaged in hand to hand combat with the surrounding creatures. Claire efficiently snapped the neck of several undead, and kicked back many more.

Unknowingly, she was growing tired. She would collapse from exhaustion soon.

Grabbing at other undead, she wrapped her hands around its head. She snapped the neck in two: hearing the ever promising rubber sound when the move was completed.

Asudden, a decaying hand lynched onto Claire's dusty shirt, pulling her to the ground with unexpected strength. Soon enough, the undead who pulled the redhead down was on top of her, trying to bite at Claire's pale and increasingly-tasty neck.

Struggling to keep the fiend at bay, she quickly glanced left and right. More of them were quickly closing in.

_Where the fuck are Carlos, LJ, Mikey and everyone else?_ She panicked, letting out a small scream.

The undead on top of her closed in: Claire finally ran out of strength to fight back.

She accepted her fate.

Claire had failed her convoy, and she could protect them no longer.

Choking back a cry, she let the undead go for her neck.

_This is it. Well done, Claire, you've royally fucked up._


	3. Salvation

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Remember kiddies, if you can't eat it, drink it, shag it, befriend it, make an enemy out of it or kill it, leave it the fuck alone. #tips from a brit. Welcome to chapter 3! It has over 2000 words, and my fingers will be non-existent by the time you've finished reading this instalment. Please send some fingers ASAP; I will pay you in bullets. Or puppy eyeballs. (Andrea knows what I'm talking about.) Italics are inciting a dream or thought, if you haven't figured that shit out by now. (Also, I'm sorry that this chapter is delayed – life gets in the way – and this is the very first intimate scene I've ever written. Enjoy!)**

**DISCLAIMER: Check chapter 2, my homey.**

_Chapter 3:_

_Clouds thicker than several bibles strung together__ rolled over the already darkening skies, threatening to precipitate upon the land. Alice sat upon a weathered rock, her brunette hair in an endless war with the wind, attempting to dominate Alice's facial region. Flourishing conifer trees stood before her, behind her and all around her, completely taking over the landscape. The brunette had absolutely no idea where she was, nor did she care: __she felt at peace, her body surrendering to the tranquillity of the landscape before her.__ Rain began to fall, each droplet gracing Alice's skin and dampening her clothes. The brunette hasn't felt the cool rain since incident at the Hive, and by god, she was enjoying it._

_Little did she know, however, of the young redhead approaching Alice from behind. Her clothes were soaked through – __revealing a black bra__ – and her shining red hair was plastered to her scalp. Clambering up the now drenched rock, the unidentified woman silently walked over to where Alice was sitting. She wrapped her pale arms around the unsuspecting brunette, eliciting a quiet gasp from the older woman. Alice leaned into the touch, turning her head to the right to take in the redhead's pure beauty. Leaning forward, the redhead captured the soft lips that belonged to Alice: their lips barely touched, a __simple breeze of a kiss__ between the two women. But they didn't just leave it at that. Alice turned around to face the redhead and captured her lips once more with the f__erocity of an enraged woman and the passion of an artist.__ The redhead reciprocated by entwining her fingers into the brunette's drenched hair and entering her tongue into Alice's mouth. The tongues duelled, giving and taking pleasure from the two women commanding them. They nipped, they sucked and they lightly bit one another for what felt like a lifetime: unfortunately, the need for air broke the passionately ferocious kiss. Looking into one another's eyes deeply – lust and love clouding their vision – as the much needed oxygen burned their lungs; Alice noted the gorgeous emerald eyes looking into her sapphire orbs. Alice pushed the stunning redhead down onto the rock, straddling her as she did so. Kissing once again, hands roamed and experienced every inch of skin possible: rubbing, entwining, kneading, grasping and gently pinching the other woman. A guttural moan filled the air once she began to knead the redhead's thighs: she could feel the other woman's heat through the soaked jeans. The redhead grasped onto the brunette's hips, her own bucking forward when Alice's hands kneaded a sensitive spot. Hands wandered below waistlines, and the two women moaned into the rain. The redhead could feel Alice's extremely wet core, and Alice could feel the redhead's hand at her own._

_The rain began to pour harder and faster as the two women entered each other, the clapping of precipitation against nature drowning out the duo's ever-growing pleasure._

x-x-x-x-x-x

Alice woke up with a start. Sweat was dripping from her brow, moist dampness covering her shoulder blades and her core exceedingly wet. Rolling over, she noticed her weathered pistol haphazardly placed in her holster. The older woman remembered what she almost did last night, involving a bullet and a mass of gore.

_Why did I even bother? It wouldn't even work. My sentence from fate is to roam these barren wastelands on my lonesome. __I deserve nothing__._

Sighing, she sat up and watched the glaring sun crest the horizon. It'd be another dry day, with as much chance of rain as there is hope for humanity. Alice ran a worn hand through dirty auburn hair, and pondered on her dream.

_Where the fuck was I? Nowhere in the world now has flourished that much, the T-Virus has killed all of nature and its inhabitants. Second of all, who is that redhead, and why was I dreaming about her? I'm pretty sure I'm not gay. I've never slept with a woman before, and I'm certainly not planning to sleep with one. __Then why am I so fucking aroused? I don't understand._

Not the one to dwindle on (sometimes arousing) dreams, Alice began to begin her morning routine; putting out the fire, packing her equipment, loading the equipment on to the barely fuelled BMW motorcycle, and finally equipping her trusty weapons. Slipping her desert duster on, she picked up the first of her weapons: her dual pistols, strapped to her outer thighs. Next, her sturdy shotgun, holstered to her back. Finally, her trusty kukri knives, which she placed into their holders, strapped to the small of her back. Alice honestly didn't know why she carried all these weapons; she was practically a weapon of mass destruction within herself.

After being injected by the T-Virus by the Umbrella Corporation, Alice has never been the same. Her blood cells merged with the infectious pathogens, removing the last piece of humanity the brunette could ever cling on to. Albeit the T-Virus enhancing her vision, her hearing, her strength, her healing times and even improving her speed, and just about everything else, she felt like her body was not her own. She felt like she wasn't always alone in her own body. And worst of all, she didn't feel like she belonged at all: the brunette felt that even with looking like a human and acting like a human, she was the biggest monstrosity, the biggest extra-terrestrial on the face of this dead planet. Alice felt like there was a massive arrow pointing at her head, letting any other survivor know she wasn't safe and she wasn't worth having as a companion.

But then again, she wasn't safe. She could move massive boulders with telepathy, make a human bleed from their eye sockets, tear motorways in half and she was pretty sure she could punch a survivor clean through the head. She was a walking death trap.

Mounting her motorcycle with ease, she hit the thrust and sped off down the ever-decaying road. Alice hugged the center line, going wherever fate decided to go.

The sun irradiated the sky, threatening to damage Alice's already contaminated skin. If it weren't for her shawl, goggles and long duster, she was pretty sure that her skin would've dried up months ago.

Alice drove for what felt like a decade: particles of sand battered her cheekbones; the uncomforting wind gave no relief from the sun bearing down on the brunette.

By the time the brightest star was in the middle of the sky, Alice was already fifty miles within Salt Lake City. Her duster coat was billowing out in the wind behind her, and her motorbike left thick clouds of dust in her wake. The brunette looked up at the sun, and estimated the time was around one in the afternoon.

_I suppose I should stop for a break, _Alice debated with herself.

Pulling up at an abandoned garage, Alice dismounted the motorcycle and whipped out one her pistols. Although the T-Virus granted Alice the power to sense any infection in a two hundred meter radius, it was always better safe than sorry. Approaching the seemingly deserted garage, the sandy brunette nudged open the faded door, earning a groaning creak from the unused object. Her Bermuda blue orbs flickered across the empty space, trying to detect any threat or lethality. After an intense few minutes, the woman was sure that the garage was safe enough to stay in for an hour. She walked back out to move her motorcycle and to collect her equipment. As she did so, a queer sound filled her sensitive eardrums. Alice titled her head to focus on the sound, or for that matter, several loud cracks.

_Gunfire._

Without a second thought, she climbed back onto her motorcycle and sped off towards the gunfire. She skilfully weaved between rocks and dead bushes, and barely managed to escape from bogging down in the sand.

_Why am I in such a rush? I'm only going to get rejected by the humans. If they're still alive, that is. But then again, I'm condemned on this planet. Might as well try and save a few people while the heart still beats within my chest._

She twisted the thrust further, spurring the motorcycle to move faster. The motorcycle complained by letting out a worrying _clunk_ when Alice tried to push it even further. Just up ahead of her, was the biggest horde the brunette had seen in a long time. Squinting against the harsh sunlight, she noticed several men and a woman fighting off the horde with basic handguns and machine guns, but they were beginning to lose. The infected just kept on coming, and they didn't halt with their hungering assault. Alice had to act fast, and she had to strike hard. The motorcycle was driving on its last legs as she revved it up to 120mph. The horde was fast approaching in front of her, and it was her prime time to actually save somebody's life for once. Suddenly jerking the motorcycle to the left, she began to skid the vehicle along the road, knocking over infected as she sped across. Before she lost precious momentum, Alice rolled off and drew her pistol, firing a well-aimed bullet at the gas canister on her motorcycle: as soon as the two entities collided, a scorching explosion filled the ears and vision of anybody nearby. In one fluid motion, she rolled up onto her heels and began firing at the offenders attempting to get some fresh lunch. Infected were dropping like flies, but her attempts would soon be thwarted; Alice was quickly running out of ammunition. As she began to back away from the horde, she spotted something, or rather _someone_ in her peripheral vision. The young woman was pinned down by an overweight undead, and her pale neck was about to be torn in two. Tunnel vision acquired, she sprinted towards the woman in danger with superhuman speed. Alice hauled the infected off the woman with ease, anger beginning to seep into her strength and tactics. With precise skill, her hands locked around the undead's skull and twisted with such strength that the head did an exact 180 degree turn, emitting a gut-wrenching crack as the spinal cord was severed. Twisting around, Alice caught an undead approaching her as she punched the offending creature clean through the head: she was elbow deep in blood and bone, her complete forearm was through the cranium and her balled up fist was protruding out the other side, dripping in pieces of brain and coagulated blood. Without looking down on the almost-bitten human, she began to agitate her T-Virus pathogens swirling around in her bloodstream: undead were sprinting towards the human and herself, and Alice would have not enough time to reload or even change weapons. Pupils dilating, adrenaline pumping and senses dramatically increasing, Alice let out an ear-shatteringly almighty holler that could be heard throughout the dead state as waves of telepathy emitted from the infected brunette. As her vocal chords began to strain under the intense power, infected bodies began to drop. Heads exploded, sending brain matter every which-where. Bones were violently snapped in half and even some undead were sent flying in various directions.

_How the fuck did I even manage that?_

When she was sure that all threats were disposed of, she dropped to her knees. The young woman rushed to her side, trying to get Alice to focus on her. A beautifully smooth voice graced her ears: "Holy – are you there? Don't fall unconscious, stay with me! Don't you fucking dare pass out on me!"

All Alice saw was stunning burgundy hair and glowing lush green eyes, then blackness.


End file.
